Chapter 2

Quinn still couldn't keep the smile off her face when she arrived at the restaurant where she was supposed to meet Émile. She kept daydreaming about her future as a renowned journalist who interviewed superstars and whose words were praised around the world. It was a dream come true for her to have this opportunity.

She entered the restaurant and looked around, trying to scope out Émile. She spotted him sitting at the far end of the room, at a small table, looking at a menu. She weaved her way through the tables and sat down across from him. He looked up when he heard her sit and smiled his most loving smile.

"Ahh, ma belle, salut." He said and stood up, leaning over the table to kiss her cheek. "I have ordered drinks already, I hope you do not mind. Sauvignon blanc for you, my love." He stared at her with adoration. Quinn couldn't help but feel awkward when he did romantic things like that for her, which was basically all the time. She knew he was in love with her, and sometimes she felt guilty for letting him feel that way when she knew what they had could never be true love for her. This was companionship to Quinn. There was no real passion in this relationship, but with time and practise, she'd learned how to fake it.

"Thank you, Émile. My favourite." She smiled. This was a lie. She had no particular preference in wine, if anything she preferred a cocktail. But if she knew anything about Émile, it was that he loved to be appreciated. Quinn did her best to appreciate everything he did, because admittedly, he did a lot for her. He took her out for dates regularly, bought her flowers and gifts, supported her financially while she was in her internship. If she couldn't be in love with him, she was at least going to be grateful for all of this. She looked down at her menu and began to look through her options.

A waitress approached their table with two glasses of wine, one white and one red, and set them down in front of them.

"Bonjour les amoureux, what would you two like to eat tonight?" Said their waitress enthusiastically. Quinn looked up at her and smiled.

"I'll have the boeuf bourgignon, please." She said. The waitress was gorgeous. She had jet black hair with big blue eyes, and adorable little dimples on her cheeks. Quinn had to stop herself from staring. Émile didn't know about Quinn's sexuality. As far as he knew, she was completely straight. There were a lot of things about Quinn that Émile didn't know.

"Wonderful. And for the gentleman?" The waitress turned to Émile, who requested coq au vin. Quinn's eyes wandered back to the waitress. She found her name tag. Mélanie. Beautiful name. Quinn thought. Quinn's eyes looked her up and down. She had a perfect figure. Quinn watched her walk across the restaurant to put their order in with the chef. Those legs...

"Quinn... Quinn, hello..." Émile said. She was startled.

"Wh-what? Oh. Sorry. Yes, Émile?"

"I was just beginning to tell you my big news. Are you paying attention now?" He teased.

"Yes, I'm listening. Tell me your news."

"Well, it very much concerns you, actually... My father has asked me to travel to London for two weeks on business. It would be entirely paid for by the company. I must leave in two days."

"Oh, Émile! That's so exciting! You're going to have so much fun."

"Yes, well, I was hoping that you would come too. He has offered to pay for you to come as well. How would you like that?"

Quinn frowned. Obviously this idea excited Émile very much, he loved spending time with her. But the assignment for The Connexion...

"Émile, I can't come to London... I'm so sorry. Maude asked me to write about the premiere of a play next week. It's something I just can't pass up. This is my chance at getting a permanent position with the company. I'm really sorry, it's just such inconvenient timing..." She feigned regret for Émile's benefit, but really she was glad to hear that she would have the apartment to herself for a couple weeks. Émile's constant wooing made her uncomfortable sometimes.

"Ahh, yes, I understand. I was very much looking forward to departing with you. However, I am certainly glad you have been given such an opportunity! Congratulations, my darling!" He snapped his fingers playfully at the waitress across the restaurant. "Mademoiselle! Two more glasses, s'il vous plait!"

Quinn rolled her eyes and grinned at him. He really was a sweet man. She did feel bad sometimes for not being able to love him the way he wanted her to. He deserved to be loved like that, but she couldn't. Émile could never be enough for Quinn's love, because he wasn't her.

The waitress came to the table with two more glasses of wine and smiled at Quinn.

"Are we celebrating something tonight, Miss?" She asked. Quinn looked down at the table. Émile laughed and said,

"Yes, we are indeed. My girlfriend is stunningly beautiful, is she not? I think that's cause enough to celebrate!" The flattery made Quinn feel uncomfortable, but no where near as much as what happened next.

"She certainly is..." Said the waitress. "Breathtaking."

Oh my God. Quinn thought. She's trying to flirt with me. The waitress gave Quinn a lingering look which she broke with a small laugh.

"Your food is on its way." She chimed, and turned on her heel. Quinn could feel her face getting hot. She didn't want to look up at Émile, but she thought that if she didn't, he would suspect something. When she looked up, he appeared blissfully oblivious to everything that had just happened.

"So, ma Chère, tell me more about this exciting opportunity. I want to hear every tiny detail." Quinn sighed, relieved, and tried to collect herself.

"Well... Maude asked me to go to the Paris premiere of a Broadway musical at the Châtelet on Friday. I have to attend the show and interview the two leads. After, I'm to write a review to be published in the paper." Quinn said, beaming with pride. This really was something to be proud of, after all. Maude wouldn't pick just anybody to take on this job.

"Mais, vraiment! You are reviewing a musical! Unbelievable! What is it called? What is it about? Oh, I wish I could come with you." Émile almost shouted, with real enthusiasm. It was amazing how much he cared for Quinn, how genuine his feelings for her were, when hers were... Well, shallow.

"I forget what it's called... Something about dancing... and I have no idea what it's about. But apparently people are really excited about it, there's a lot of hype around it. Maude told me the two leads I'm interviewing are romantically involved." Quinn replied.

"Ahh, Chérie, I can tell you right now that is nothing but false stories. I will bet you twenty euros their romance is just for show. That is always the case." Émile said. Sounds familiar. Quinn thought, and mentally cursed herself. Émile didn't deserve that.

"I have no idea if it's true or not... And frankly I don't really care, as long as they give me something to work with... Honestly, though, I just can't remember the name of the play... Here, I think I have the playbill in my bag somewhere..." Quinn reached into her bag just as the waitress came back carrying their dishes. She stopped rummaging and looked at the waitress again. She was staring right at her, giving her a very seductive look. Quinn froze. What does she think she's doing? She thought. Émile is going to flip.

But Émile was happily starting his meal, not looking up from his plate. With her boyfriend distracted, Quinn let her eyes linger on the waitress. She even gave her a little smirk of recognition, which turned out to be exactly what the waitress was waiting for. With her eyes on Émile to make sure he wasn't paying attention, the waitress reached out to Quinn's hand on the table. Pretending to give her a friendly pat, she slid a small, folded piece of paper into Quinn's hand. Quinn held her breath and watched Émile for any sign of confusion, but he didn't look up.

"Enjoy your date." The waitress smirked, and left them alone at the table. Quinn, still holding her breath, slowly lowered her hand underneath the table. She unfolded the paper, which read "My name is Mélanie. Call me." With a phone number scribbled underneath. Quinn choked on her breath. Émile looked up at her, concerned.

"Ça va?" He asked, and Quinn waved his worry away and tried to stay calm. She slipped the note into the pocket of her cardigan. The idea of an affair made Quinn sick to her stomach. Even though she wasn't truly in love with Émile, her conscience would never let her be unfaithful to him. Trying to eject the unwanted thoughts from her head, she went back to digging through her bag for the playbill. She found it in the folder Maude gave her and pulled it out.

"The Last Dance." Quinn said. "That's what it's called." She said. Émile nodded, interested. Quinn paused to take a bite of her delicious food, and a sip of wine.

"Sounds a bit cheesy to me." She added, and Émile laughed. "And I will be interviewing..." She flipped through the pages, trying to find the list of players.

"... Anthony Giovanni, and—" She stopped suddenly, mouth agape, unable to speak. Émile looked concerned.

"Quinn, darling, what is it?" He asked.

Quinn stared at the page in front of her in shock. She never thought this would happen, especially not here, where an entire ocean separated her from her past. She had spent the past seven years pushing away her feelings, using boyfriends and distance to forge a new life for herself, one devoid of unrequited love. But in a second, at the sight of a name, they all came flooding back like a tidal wave, and after all this time Quinn feared she'd forgotten how to swim. Émile was still asking her what was wrong, but she couldn't find the words to give him a real answer. So instead, she just said the name of the one person she could never really forget, despite how hard she tried, and the name that was written in the playbill she was holding in front of her;

"Rachel Berry".